“Don’t do that,” he chuckled. “I’d never live up to that image.”

“I’ll modify it, just a little.”

“Thanks for the brandy. And the company.”

“I enjoyed it, too.” She studied him quietly. “You’re one of the Griers from over near El Paso, in Texas. You run purebred Santa Gertrudis cattle.”

He nodded.

“But you’re playing at being a cowboy.”

He shrugged. “I got tired of being a walking bankbook.”

“I know that feeling as well. If you get bored, come on over. I play a mean game of chess.”

His pale brown eyes brightened. “So do I.”

She stopped to jot down her number on a piece of paper. “It’s unlisted.”

He gave her his cell phone number. “I’ll be in touch.”

She smiled. “But just friends.”

“Just friends,” he promised.

BART WAS STILL awake when Cort drove up to the front door and cut off the engine. He felt a little ashamed of what he’d asked his cousin, about bringing Ida home with him. Bart wasn’t a rounder and he didn’t move with the times. Cort never should have made him uncomfortable about his beliefs.

He was hesitant when he got into the living room. It was uncharacteristic. “Listen,” he told Bart. “I’m sorry. About what I asked you.”

Bart didn’t hold grudges. He just shrugged. “Different strokes for different folks,” he said, quoting his late father. “Your private life is none of my business. As long as you don’t try to bring it here,” he added with a grin.

“Fair enough.” He sat down heavily. “I guess I really am getting old. Women don’t hold any mystery for me these days.”

“Even the happy divorcée?” Bart asked with a chuckle.

He shook his head. “She isn’t what she seems.”

“There’s a lot of that going around,” Bart replied, thinking of his friend Mina.

His face tautened. “That ‘friend’ of yours is a walking irritant,” he muttered. “What the hell was she doing at a high society party in the first place? I’d bet real money that her dress came off the sale rack at some bargain basement clothing store.”

Bart almost told him. Almost. But it was fun watching his cousin make assumptions. When it came, the end result was going to be hilarious. “Oh, they invited the whole community,” he said instead.

“It was supposed to be for some up-and-coming author, they said,” Cort returned, “but I never got introduced.”

“Too many people,” Bart said easily. “I just stood in a corner with the Callisters and Mina.” His mouth pulled down at one side. “None of us drink.”

“Your loss,” Cort chuckled. “They had some fine liquors.”

“I like my brain functional.”

“So do I, but the occasional drink helps to give it a brief vacation,” his cousin quipped.

Bart chuckled. He got to his feet. “Well, I’m off to bed. I’m not much for parties, and I’ve got a man coming over in the morning to look over my yearling bulls to see if he feels like spending some money.”